


Slime Pies Fix Everything

by goryCacotopia (fatalHoroscope)



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Angst, Dominant Gamzee, Drug Abuse, Dubious Consent, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Sadism(?), Submissive Karkat, Unhealthy Kismesissitude
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-14
Updated: 2019-03-14
Packaged: 2019-11-13 18:55:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18036962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fatalHoroscope/pseuds/goryCacotopia
Summary: A rather abusive relationship between Karkat and Gamzee. Takes place on the meteor, in a slightly different timeline, no major changes.





	Slime Pies Fix Everything

**Author's Note:**

  * For [RatPrince](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RatPrince/gifts).



If there was one thing that stood out on the long bullet-list of things Gamzee Makara did not understand, it was black romance. First of all, he didn't even seem to quite grasp the whole concept. Karkat knew that getting hurt was part of the deal, but the injuries involved were usually for good reason. To make the injured troll stronger and rise to the taunting of the other. Instead of this, Karkat had often been left with cuts, bruises, and even once a sprained wrist from a hate hand-hold gone wrong. None of them had any place in a rivalry, and they were almost always the result of Gamzee's rough tendencies during their more intimate moments. One could argue that trying to walk again, or ignoring the pain in his shoulders was a sign of a healthy kismessitude, but there was one staggering difference. Karkat was no match for Gamzee. He could barely lay a finger on the clown without getting himself pinned to a wall and thoroughly fucked, or beaten. Typically the former. Gamzee took every black advance as hate-seduction, and wasted no time in reacting accordingly. It was bad enough that he was always high as a kite. Hell, Karkat had even let Gamzee introduce him to sopor slime pies to dull the sting of his cuts and the pain of having a drug-addicted kismesis. In fact, it helped numb the worst ache of all.  


Gamzee didn't even reciprocate the feelings.  


How could he? He didn't even fully understand the quadrant, but he'd done it because of some sort of odd obsession for Karkat. The mutant had greatly weakened his other relationships for this one, even cutting ties with one or two others who didn't support his decisions. Karkat still cared for Gamzee, even despite being largely pitch for him. He knew somewhere there was a clown that could hold a healthy rivalry, and he spent each day hoping, praying to messiahs he didn't even believe in that Gamzee would realize this wasn't the proper way to have a black romance. Occasionally, Gamzee would try to flip pale. Karkat never understood how or why, but he savored the softness and feelings jams. Unfortunately, however, he'd see them less and less as Gamzee seemed to do a perfect swan-dive off the deep end. He dove right into borderline abusive waters. Karkat was worn down and hopeless, though he refused to see it.

Speak of the Devil himself. Gamzee interrupted Karkat's internal monologue by walking in with a voice full of lust and hands full of pie. Karkat cringed slightly as he saw some of the slime escape over the rim of the pie tin and onto the floor. Sometimes he regretted alchemizing the damn things for the dumb clown. Then again, they kept him from getting agitated too easily. He'd always hated Gamzee's drug problem, and he doubted Gamzee even had enough think pan cells left to juggle, with the constant abuse of the very slime they slept in. But hey, whatever it took to keep him able to walk the next day after being pressed belly-down against the floor. Fuck anyone who assumed this was what blackrom was, fuck them right in their disgusting infested nooks. It wasn't supposed to be like this, not like this. Once more Gamzee butt in, though Karkat had only been ranting to himself for mere seconds that time, so he wasn't too upset. Contrary to popular belief, he didn't get angry over nothing twenty-four/seven. He just...overheated quickly. Usually Gamzee made him forget his troubles one way or another, so he did genuinely think the relationship could get better and work out, in its own twisted way. He shivered slightly as Gamzee grinned, drawling out a slurred greeting.

"Heeeeey, my most pitchest of brothers. How's it hanging? Hope you're up for some miraculous fuckin' blackrom shenanigans, I got plenty of things to explore. Most of them are new positions 'n shit, but hey, what's a couple of kismesises without the motherfuckin' hate fuckin'?" He moved closer, an uneven grin accentuating his crooked fangs that had bruised and marked Karkat's shoulders and neck on so many occasions. He had no idea that Gamzee had even had such a...different side to him. A side that he'd never have wished to be unleashed in all his sweeps of living. Okay, well, maybe a much more mild, watered down version of such a personality. He did...like like Gamzee, of course, that's why he initiated the relationship, just...God, it wasn't like the movies.

Karkat cringed as Gamzee drew nearer, so close to the point where he had to look far up from his computer screen just to make eye contact. He could smell the sopor on his breath, which disgusted him a bit. He was no stranger to it, obviously, but he still was grossed out by the stuff. His first time trying sopor ended with his face stuck down the toilet. Gamzee smirked, leaning down so that they were nose-to-nose, his eyes drooping. "How about we get our miraculous motherfucking pitch on, and paint a few walls with the fuckin' hues of us?" Karkat flushed at such a filthy comment.

"I-I..." It was one of the rare times Karkat was at a loss for words. Sure, he'd been flirting with Gamzee for a while, but never had the clown been so straightforward, so direct in his suggestions. Normally it was a look or just a regular crappy pick-up line, or even a joke. Things really had gone downhill between them. Gamzee tilted his head at Karkat's failure to reply, eyes narrowing slightly as his grin only grew.

"I'll take that as a yes, then." Hands immediately moved to his hips, rough as they began to pull him out of his desk chair.

"Come here."

Karkat didn't even really struggle as much as he used to before, used to this whole cycle by now. Gamzee would come in, degrade him, usually by forcing him on all fours or down on his stomach, leave, and repeat. Of course if Karkat seemed to be truly uncomfortable, Gamzee would usually slow down and wait until he was okay, and apologize with rough kisses. That was when he was on sopor, though. Karkat appreciated the feeble attempt at keeping him calm, though it was barely an attempt at all. It was probably just to keep Karkat from getting too loud. Secretly, deep down, he enjoyed being used by Gamzee, he enjoyed the rough kisses, in a horrible, sick way. He hated himself for almost liking the painful bruises from the next day, a blatant reminder that he had someone in his quadrants. They proved someone cared enough to mark him up in visible places, and he liked to pretend they were out of a sort of playful possessiveness. It kept the self-loathing and regret down, at least. And, to a degree, Gamzee did care, he just didn't understand enough about the quadrant to properly express it. He thought he was doing it right, and Karkat didn't tell him otherwise, for fear of some sort of meltdown. Gamzee was relatively unstable, after all.

Gamzee seemed to be interested in Karkat's compliance, seeing as Karkat usually at least gave a "No way, fuckass!" or some other random slur he conjured up. "What's up with ya, bro? Normally you'd be up and swearin' at me like a motherfucker." He chuckled, trailing a finger down the mutant's chest, pressing it in slightly to tear his sweater, a straight sliced line down his front. He winced whenever Gamzee pressed too hard and grazed his skin, but otherwise stayed patient and still. Gamzee seemed more mellow than usual, and Karkat had to refrain from rolling his eyes. The stupid purpleblood probably ingested about a million damn pies before he came to visit Karkat. He made no comment on it, enjoying the relaxed approach. It would probably wear off soon, however. The pies had been affecting him less and less, as with any normal drug addiction. Karkat had taken a break from alchemizing them in hopes Gamzee would go through withdrawal and kind of "reset" how much he needed to stay mellow, but once he started getting more violent Karkat quickly stopped what he was doing. He felt his sweater be pulled off of him and tossed onto the floor, and his face heated up more as his pants shortly followed. He made no complaint, his bulge wasting no time in peeking out of its sheath, leaving a faint red stain on his grey boxers.

Giving a deep chuckle, Gamzee quickly discarded his own clothing, pushing Karkat down onto his back, using one hand to pin both of Karkat's far above his head. Karkat didn't do much aside from a squeak, not exactly in the mood to complain. Honestly, between Gamzee being off his proverbial rocker and other bullshit going on in their session, a rough moment of intimacy with his kismesis was what he needed, and kind of had been craving. He even allowed himself to give a gentle moan as Gamzee bit at his neck, hard enough to leave a few deep bruises. Though he always got marked in one way or another, he enjoyed it every time. The process gave a slight twinge of pain, enough to cause his bulge to get a bit more energetic, but not enough to come across as truly black. The clown quickly ran his hands down Karkat's bare torso, feeling him up in the most sinful of ways. He fiddled with the grub scars down his sides, causing the other to arch his back and give a strained breath, before his fingers lightly touched the outline of his bulge pressing against his boxers, the candy-red stain more prominent now. Gamzee was rough where it was fit, and gentle where he knew it would drive Karkat mad. He'd seemed to have taken such careful note of what Karkat loved, surely that meant he cared? He'd never admit it, but he loved the somewhat harsh treatment.

After a few moments of the heavy petting, Karkat felt something cool and slightly damp against his boxers. Fuck. Gamzee's bulge pressed eagerly against the thin fabric, searching for Karkat's beneath it. Both seemed to attempt to intertwine, though Karkat's boxers effectively shut that down. Gamzee eventually gave a rather annoyed growl, quite literally tearing Karkat's boxers off of his lower half. Cold fingers gripped the writhing appendage, causing Karkat to cry out as his hips bucked up pathetically into Gamzee's grip. His pleas were short-lived as the clown forced a hand over his mouth, quickly turning him around and onto his knees, pushing his own bulge inside of Karkat's nook and beginning to thrust roughly. The smaller troll gasped with each short buck, giving a confused whine when he felt Gamzee's fingers pry his mouth open. Suddenly, he cringed in disgust as a glop of lukewarm, slightly sour material slid down his throat. Holding back the urge to gag, he managed to swallow the obvious sopor slime Gamzee had forced into him. It made quick work at dulling his senses, his sight and body overall becoming fuzzier, in a metaphorical sense. Every touch, thrust, and nip at the back of his neck felt more intense, more passionate, and he loved it. His cheek was pressed against the bare floor but he didn't care, there was a rug anyways. He'd probably end up with a horrible imprint on his face later that would tell the story of what had happened, but it was the very last thing on his mind. All he could really focus on was how amazing he felt, his body practically lighting up with pleasure.

Karkat's mind had gone mainly blank, save for the focus he had on Gamzee's presence behind him and the unmistakable waves of euphoria coursing throughout him. The only sounds he could make were strangles chirrs and whimpers, coherent words no longer known to him. Karkat pressed back against Gamzee, trying to get his bulge to push even deeper into him, despite the fact that each thrust pushed his full length in and then some. After a few moments of somewhat slow, heated thrusts, Gamzee got considerably quicker and rougher. By now Karkat was a mess, practically melting into the rug as he let Gamzee thoroughly fuck him, whining at every little movement or twitch. His chest was flush against the ground, fingers grabbing helplessly against the floor, tearing the fabric beneath him. It grew to a staggeringly overwhelming climax, leaving Karkat unable to see straight as he finally hit his high, quivering and crying out beneath Gamzee as the pressure building up in his abdomen released in a series of sensual pulses that fulfilled his hedonistic wishes. The clown had put almost his full wait on Karkat, giving a final harsh buck of his hips as he spilled into him, biting Karkat's shoulder with a deep moan.

Gamzee, still mellowed out by the afterglow, pulled out lazily, gathering Karkat into his arms for a sloppy and somewhat off kiss. The other gladly returned the embrace and kiss, desperately deepening the lip lock and purring quietly. He eagerly bit down on Gamzee's bottom lip, causing the other to jerk back. "Nah, not all that into being bit, bro. How about you stick to your rightful place; beneath me." Gamzee took a look at the mess they had made on the floor, giving a click. "Not exactly all up on the motherfuckin' walls, but it'll do for a damn satisfactory tribute to our black partnership. Don'tcha think?" Karkat didn't respond, instead trying to catch his breath, leaning against Gamzee with his chin on his shoulder. Chuckling, Gamzee stood up, leaving Karkat on the floor. "Now, now, ya know full and well that gettin' your fucking cuddle on isn't a proper thing to do in this sorta relationship. It's too...pale, you know? Save that shit for some other troll, right? I'll be back later, if I care enough about a fuckin' fool like you." Grinning at his attempt at a pitch flirt, he turned around, exiting as quickly as he had entered, though slightly more sober now. Karkat was left in a puddle of genetic material, close to tears at the sudden departure of his quadrant-crush. He was alone. Again. As usual. He stood up, shakily taking himself to his desk chair and pulling up some old pesterlogs he'd saved, still under the effects of the sopor. It was easier to pretend like this, now. It was easier to pretend that the Gamzee he knew and loved was still there with him, instead of preserved forever in words on a screen. Gamzee was right about one thing. Slime pie fixes everything.

**Author's Note:**

> I am so sorry it took so long to finish this! I was going through some really tough emotional times, and then I got sick. I didn't intend to take this long. Sorry again, I hope you can forgive me!


End file.
